The Gift and the Curse
by Firennissi Assassin
Summary: Dark fic. Post -war. Will Snape and Hermoine find love in each other through all the death and suffering?
1. Prologue

My first fanfic. Hope you like it.  
  
The war was supposed to be some great victory. It was going to be the last stance that saved the wizarding world. The blood spilt, the death that permeated the air was enough to send me to St. Mungo's. All my friends, my classmates, my professors lying lifeless on the ground. It was the stuff that hero's tales were made of, except twisted to some perverse, unnatural fashion.  
  
Ron Weasley, Madam Hooch, Madam Pince, Hannah Abbott, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, the Creevey brothers . . . . . . so many dead on the school that became the battlefield. The children that became the warriors are dead, from all houses, all heavily hit. Our coming of age had come in blood.  
  
Death was indiscriminate, uncaring of which side you stood on. I walked through the Quidditch pitch coming upon the body that caused so much pain, so much suffering, so much desperation. Finally dead, finally the end that the wizarding world so badly needed.  
  
Not too far away was the body of Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, the savior of the wizarding world. Fresh tears awoke me from my deadened state. I saw it all happen in slow motion, like some of those American action movies. Voldemort fired the killing curse at Harry. Ron took the hit. Harry immediately Avada Kevadra'd Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy killed Harry form behind. Cowardly bastard.  
  
At that point I broke form the stagnation that was halting my actions. I was so infuriated, so saddened, so desperate. I could not see straight. Wand forgotten, I saw red, and had passed out. Only to awaken now, to stare at the battle fought, contemplating what had happened. Draco Malfoy turning to the light with Blaise Zabini and turning around and killing their housemates of seven years. Our graduation day had turned into a massacre. The death of everyone I ever loved. The finality of it was depressing.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- *-*-*-*-*-  
I was about to see the know-it-all Gryffindor give her valedictorian speech. No surprise there. When all of a sudden scores of Deatheaters apparated giving a new meaning to the term "snap, crackle, and pop". I had always been fond of the Muggle cereal, though I'll be damned if I ever admit it.  
  
Except for the younger students who had taken it up themselves to scream like banshees (honestly, what was that going to achieve), everyone took out their wands to join their respective sides. The Order or the wizards that once were, the Deatheaters. Half of Slytherin had abandoned Hogwarts to join the Dark Lord. Any loon who can't be any more creative than the "Dark Lord" needs to find a hobby. I believe that I induce much more fear by looking at a student who had just killed one of my cauldrons than the term the "Dark Lord."  
  
Hexes and curses bring flown and thrown every which way. Chaos and anarchy would have found a great home here. Dumbledore, the supposed symbol of all things good and holy, ordained by the almighty Garvedians to be the poster boy of the Light, wa shaving trouble keeping up with the onslaught of attacks he was enduring. His strength was failing. Great. Bloody fucking brilliant.  
  
All around students were falling, students that I ridiculed, that I taught, that I favored and that I scorned. Sobering myself into action, I started to attack violently anyone who dared attack MY students, My hope for MY freedom and MY redemption. Damn the sadists who decided to follow a nut job who wants to exterminate the general populace. Come on, seriously, what will that accomplish? Absolutely nothing.  
  
Oh great. Saint Potter. The final duel. The one that would decide everything. It was like a running Quidditch commentator in my head – Voldemort attacked Potter . . . Weasley intercepted . . . . . Potter killed Voldemort . . . shot down by a cowardly Malfoy senior from behind and . . . . the wizarding world is saved by one Harry James Potter who is our official martyr.  
  
Then the most unusual awe-strucking thing happened . . . . . 


	2. Revelation

Hey everybody, this is the next chapter. I hope you like it! Please Read and Review.  
  
Granger was suspended in midair. We are in the wizarding world but that is a little unusual, even for us. What in the name of . . . . .  
  
Her head fell back and a bright red light shot through her body sending her into convulsions. It was astoundingly unearthly. The burgundy light shot out form her body attacking the Deatheaters. The sound that had accompanied the light was near terrifying, almost like whips cracking through the night.  
  
What the hell was it?  
  
Her body turned towards Lucius Malfoy. I thought he was going to piss in his pants right then and there. If it was me, I would have run as hard and as fast as I could, and then deny it later. He, on the other hand, just stood there. Her mouth opened and she released the most ethereal, unnatural scream I had ever heard. And with that, the red lightning had struck him as well, killing him upon impact. Good riddance, I say.  
  
She killed them. All the ones who were close enough – she killed them. The cowards who took to running were spared her . . . what? Her wrath? Her power? What was it? I always knew she was powerful. Obviously not to my capability, or Dumbledore's, but she did have the talent and the will to retain the power. I never knew she could harness this much power, or whatever it was. The light? The power? . . carried and placed her on the ground. And then she woke up with tears in her eyes looking around at the battlefield and the dead bodies, half of which she had put there.  
  
Dumbledore came up behind me and for once that annoying twinkling was not in his eye. We started walking towards Granger; somebody had to find out what the hell had happened to her. McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and Pomfrey already started attending to the wounded on the other end of the grounds, leaving us with Granger. They were much better equipped to handle this, why did I have to? So many dead and so many hurting. It was really quite depressing.  
  
We walked up to her. Se was remarkably unscathed though her clothes were torn. I looked at Dumbledore and saw his eyes regain that incessant twinkle and his jaw almost literally drop but he quickly regained his composure. I gave him my trademark questioning glare. He simply shrugged it off, just like he always does and it infuriates me to no end. Damn him, his twinkling eyes and that forsaken all-knowing look. I always thought he knew way too much than he lets on and than he should for that matter. And yet here we are, standing alive. Yippee for me.  
  
Granger finally noticed us approaching. She looked up and asked us the question that I have been dying to ask her.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
************************************************************************  
  
I saw Dumbledore and Snape approaching. I wanted to know what in Merlin's name had happened. The battle was over and there were so many dead. There never was supposed to be so many dead. I thought I saw Dumbledore look in shock but his expression changes so quickly that I couldn't tell. Now I could finally ask the question that has been plaguing my mind.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Dumbledore and Snape looked at me oddly as if they couldn't believe me. Then Dumbledore asked me:  
  
"You do not remember anything that happened? Nothing at all?"  
  
"I remember Voldemort killing Ron and Harry killing Voldemort and then Lucius Malfoy killing Harry and then a flash of red."  
  
I tried not to cry. I wouldn't. I was strong. I knew they were dead. I knew they wouldn't, couldn't come back. That's at least what the logical part of my mind told me. That part of my mind also failed me when I broke down in tears all over again. I looked up at Snape and almost expected him to sneer at me in his usual condescending tone for my human folly of weeping for the death all around me but all I saw was him staring at me, totally and utterly dumbfounded.  
  
All of a sudden I just wanted to know why they were staring at me. Why don't I remember what happened after Harry was killed.  
  
"What happened?" I repeated.  
  
"If you would follow us Ms. Granger." Dumbledore "requested".  
  
"No. I want to know what happened."  
  
"Ms. Granger now is not the time for playing the brave Gryffindor. We have much more important things to discuss." Snape sneered.  
  
So . . . . he speaks.  
  
"Fine. Lead the way."  
  
So I followed them back to the castle. I wanted to know what happened. I want to know why I passed out but most of all, I want to sleep and forget.  
  
We finally arrived back in Dumbledore's office. Fawkes immediately swooped down onto Dumbledore's shoulder, glad his companion was alive. Why do his eyes twinkle like that? It is the most infuriating thing I have ever seen. What does he know that I don't?  
  
"Would you like a lemon drop, Ms. Granger?"  
  
"No, what I would like to know is what the hell is going on here!"  
  
"Be careful, Ms. Granger." said Snape.  
  
I merely glared. I want to know. Now.  
  
"This might take quite a bit of time so I suggest that you get comfortable, Ms. Granger." Dumbledore suggested.  
  
"Alright. Headmaster, I would just like to know what is going on."  
  
Funny. Snape looked as curious as I am to hear what Dumbledore has to say. heard of them before."  
  
"Yes, but only in passing."  
  
"She would have." Snape muttered.  
  
"Yes, as I was saying, the Garvedians are the guardians of magic, of all magical kind. Beasts, elves, unicorns, trolls, Dementors, wizards . . . . anything that contains magic, the Garvedians shall protect. This I am sure, most wizards know. What they do not know is that they also protect Muggles. Every single being has magic to an extent. Muggles are the ones that only have magic to an infinitesimally small degree that, unlike wizards and witches, they are unable to tap that power. "A long time ago, before the age of world religions took over and dominated our planet, the Garvedians were worshipped by Muggles and wizards alike simply by acknowledging their existence. They were the representation of the light and the pure magic, unadulterated. They each could manifest themselves into a certain aspect or trait, physically, of our lives like passion or hope. "But as you know, there must always be balance in life: light and dark, peace and war, love and hate. This balance is very delicate. So, naturally, with the existence of the Garvedians, there came their counterparts, the Asryans, the powers of all things dark and evil, the complete opposite of the Garvedians. This balance must always be maintained. For if it is upset, havoc would be wrought upon the world. Now, I must also tell you that each side has a power that is akin to a leader to keep the rest in check: the Garvedian of passion, Valyria, and the Asryan of destruction, Deriel."  
  
"This is all very interesting but what does it have to do with me?"  
  
"Yes, Headmaster, as fascinating as this is, why is it so significant to Ms. Granger."  
  
If I wasn't so aggravated, Snape's curiosity would have been comical.  
  
"I am in fact coming to that. Long ago there was a prophecy made about a being that would harness the power of the Garvedians and protect our world from the Destruction. There is not much explaining the prophecy simply because it has been ignored by most wizards, even the ones who knew of its existence."  
"Today after you saw that red light, your body was suspended in mid air and that same red light had shot through your body before it killed many of the Deatheaters, at least the ones who had not noticed what was happening. Those who did started running. After that you fell back to the ground and you had fallen unconscious. We found you as you had awoken."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Also, I do not think that you have noticed the unusual mark on your back."  
  
Dumbledore transfigured a book into a full length mirror. I walked up to it and looked at my back. I faintly heard Snape inhale sharply. There was a tattoo of a large red lightening bolt coming down my entire back all on a royal blue background. My entire back was a myriad of blue and red. I was marked.  
  
Through all the stress, the battle and now the prophecy, I had passed out for the second time that day. 


End file.
